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Framed

She was standing in the middle of the room, the girl right in front of her. The girl didn’t seem to have noticed her presence at all. The girl around her age, walked down the street. Drunk men followed her. She walked faster. They followed. She ran, and they ran behind her. She walked into a building, a house perhaps. She knew the place, but where exactly ? She was not sure. The drunk men passed by. The girl – relieved – turned around, looked at her, and frowned. She was confused, she turned to look behind her.
Beep. Beeeep. Beeeeeeeeeeep.
Her alarm pulled her back to reality with so much force that she almost hit the wall behind her. She realised the place was very similar to the building the girl had walked into.
She looked at the photographs again. Each of them told a story, it seemed to capture more than just fragments of life. No. It seemed to capture life itself.
It was too late by the time she noticed that she was alone. She had already walked into the adjacent room, which had only a single photograph, and a wooden board beside it. With something written on it. The other photographs were hung on the wall, but this was right at the centre. The photograph, unlike the others was quite blurred. There was just a shadow, and the picture made her very uncomfortable. She went over and read whatever was written.

Oh no! No, no, no!

She became pale and cold, like a corpse. The horrid things that happened in there, she wanted to stay no longer. A curse? She had no time to decide. She turned around to run away, but she hit the wall. Where did the door go?
She heard the knob turning – from above . She looked up, and there the door was. On the ceiling. The door
opened inwards slowly, as if somebody was behind it. And then it shut with great force, the door falling off the ceiling. She ducked out of the way just in time. She felt something wet and cold on her palms, she saw blood – spreading across the floor. Blood through the windows, ventilators. And somebody was crying out in pain, as if being cut into pieces alive. The blood was all over the floor, she got on the podium like furniture that carried the photograph and the curse. As her right hand grabbed the frame for support, it fell. And then , a hand over her left hand. Another around her waist, and there shadows everywhere.

Say Cheese.

He was only five, wandered into the place by accident. His mother walked in, held him by the hand and said, ” Come on now, let’s go. I’ve told you not to wander off like this.”
“But look Mommy”, said he pointing at the picture on the floor.
A girl, scared or in pain perhaps? Too Blurred to make out, and someone was hovering over her.
“Let’s get out of here,” said his mother.